The Whisper Beneath the Window

by The Winter Child Poet

Tonight a tiny whisper touched my window,

so light I almost missed it.

It wasn’t wind, and it wasn’t the creak of the old frame —

it was the snow itself, leaning close enough to speak.

A single flake slid down the glass,

slow as a shy thought finding courage.

I pressed my mitten to the glow inside,

and the whisper rose just a little,

as if winter knew it had been heard.

The eaves bent down to listen.

The stars softened their shine.

Even the old wooden beams grew quiet,

and for a moment the whole night held its breath.

Then the whisper said something small and true:

“Some hopes stay close because they keep

the warmth in places cold has been.”

When the hush settled again,

the whisper didn’t drift away.

It stayed beside my window,

a soft little thought keeping watch

through the long winter night.

Sometimes the gentlest things choose to stay with us

just because we once leaned close enough to listen.

Read the full poem and analysis tomorrow 16th: https://alkonda.com/2025/12/16/the-poem-of-the-day-65/